


The District Four Victor(s)

by philip_sheadenbeck



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-21 14:50:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9553469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/philip_sheadenbeck/pseuds/philip_sheadenbeck
Summary: Moments from Finnick Odair and Annie Cresta's life beginning when Finnick first got back from his Games up until he falls in love with Annie. Each chapter doesn't follow immediately where the last ended, but they're still in order chronologically with only small time jumps.





	1. Being A Victor Isn't All It's Cracked Up To Be

**Author's Note:**

> I was having a lot of Finnick Odair feels and this is what happened.

The air was colder that day than it had been all week. It was spring in District Four but the weather was never reliable. Fifteen year old Finnick Odair stepped into his new house in the Victor’s Village and let out a small sigh of comfort as the heat from the house hit his cheeks. He had won his games seven months ago and finished his victory tour so now he could finally afford and embrace the lavish lifestyle that came with winning. While District Four wasn’t a necessarily poor district, the Victor’s Village houses still had a lot of amenities houses outside didn’t. Finnick felt a sense of pride being able to give such luxuries to his Grandmother.

     He began living with his her, his last surviving relative, after his parents died in a shipwreck on a routine fishing expedition when Finnick was nine. As he got older the few remaining memories he had of his parents were beginning to fade, but he wasn’t too concerned because there were many more memories to be made now as a victor.

     “Finnick, honey, is that you?” Gran called from the dining room. “We have a guest.”

     He followed her voice and was surprised to see President Snow sitting at the head of their dining room table. Anxiety pricked at his skin. Visits from Snow weren't often the warmest.

     Finnick’s Grandmother didn't seem bothered by his presence and gave the president a smile, offering him a piece of District Four’s famous tinted green bread.

     Snow held up his hand slightly, declining her offer.

     “Come sit, Mr. Odair,” he said while gesturing to the seat on the other end of the table. Finnick hesitated a moment before taking the seat as Finnick’s Grandmother excused herself, granting them their privacy.

     “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Finnick asked.

     “I wanted to congratulate you once more, my young victor, on your win.” Snow adjusted the white rose pinned to his suit. “You are quite popular in the Capitol. So popular, in fact, that people are willing to pay for your acquaintance.”

     Finnick’s thick eyebrows furrowed as he tried to make sense of what exactly that meant. The president continued.

     “I have arranged for you to travel to the Capitol five times a year to meet with some of these eager fans and to keep up your popularity among the Capitol residents.”

     Finnick nodded slowly, waiting for the catch to come but it didn't. 

     “Pack your bags,” Snow ordered. “We will be leaving on the train tonight.”

     He did as he was told and briefly outlined Snow’s reason for dropping by to his Grandmother. While Gran didn't express any concerns, Finnick still kept his doubts as he boarded the train with Snow.

     Once they were in the Capitol, two Peacekeepers and the president led Finnick to a penthouse room on the top floor of a prestigious hotel. Snow watched from the doorway while Finnick inspected the room. There was a large bed with a billowing canopy draped over top that took up the majority of the room. A large screen on the opposite wall displayed the Capitol emblem and a small fridge was tucked into a corner. When Finnick opened it, he found it was filled with snacks and various alcohols. The only other thing in the room was a tiny bathroom.

     “This is where you will be staying and meeting fans during these trips,” Snow told him.

     “What am I supposed to do, sign a few autographs?”

     Snow chuckled in a way that made the tiny hairs on Finnick’s arms stand straight.

     “You will do whatever they want you to do.”

     “But Sir, the fans are crazy,” Finnick laughed nervously. “Some even tried to rip my clothes off at one of the train stations during the Tour.”   

     The president waved away his concerns.

     “There will be two Peacekeepers outside your room at all times. If something goes wrong, they are equipped to handle it.”

     Finnick said nothing.

     “Send up Delphi Aldjoy, if you would.”

     The name Aldjoy seemed familiar, but Finnick couldn’t put a finger on who it belonged to. He figured a gamemaker’s wife maybe, or possibly a stylist’s daughter.

     When she walked in, she was much older than Finnick had anticipated. She looked to be in her late forties. Snow shot Finnick a nasty smile then left and closed the door behind him. Delphi’s bright magenta hair almost brushed against the ceiling as she threw herself into Finnick's arms. He stumbled backwards at the weight of her and held back a gasp of pain as something sharp on her outrageous outfit poked his ribcage.

     Her overly plumped lips crashed against his while she tore at his shirt, popping off a button or two. Finnick immediately pushed her off, breathing heavily from shock.

     “I’m sorry,” he muttered, looking down at the clearly offended woman. “I’ll-I’ll be right back. I’m sorry.”

     He burst through the door, spotting Snow and a few Peacekeepers still walking down the hallway. Finnick called for them before sprinting to catch up.

     “What did you promise those fans?” Finnick panted.

     Snow stopped walking and pivoted to face him.

     “You, my dear boy,” he said simply. “I promised them you.”

     Finnick shook his head. “This is insane. I-I can’t do this. I won’t. I thought I would be signing autographs, but that woman in there tried to get me in bed, I-”

     “Oh, Mr. Odair, sometimes I forget how young and naive you are.” Snow stepped closer to him, now close enough for Finnick to smell Snow's sour breath. “You will sleep with these women, you will dance with these women, you will do whatever these fans want you to do, and not only will you do it, but you will do it with the same charismatic charming personality you put on for the games." He stepped back and paused to straighten his suit. "Think of your family, Finnick. You already lost your parents, it’d be a shame to lose your Gran. Especially when her death would be entirely preventable.”

     Anger boiled up inside Finnick but he fought to keep his voice even. “Are you threatening me?”

     “No, my dear Finnick,” Snow smiled sickly, exposing his pink stained teeth. “I’m promising you. And, as you may have heard, I am not a man who breaks a promise.”

     Finnick clenched his hands into fists and dug his nails into his palm to keep him from doing something he'd surely regret. 

     Snow began to turn around but then stopped and held a finger in the air as if he had just been reminded of something else he needed to say.

     “Ah, and one last thing, Mr. Odair. You may want to make sure Miss Aldjoy has an extra nice time tonight,” he said. “That was rather rude how you left her, considering her father was the one who sent you your trident.”

     The president disappeared behind a wall of Peacekeepers who walked him down the rest of the hallway. The two Peacekeepers who stayed to watch the room took Finnick by his arms. He yanked them out of their grasps.

     “I can walk myself.”

     His mind was racing but Finnick knew there was no way to get out of Snow’s grip. He had to protect his loved ones, even if there was only one left. An infinite storm of emotions raged inside him but when he opened the door to the room he quickly pushed them all aside. He put on a smile that could convince stars to fall to earth and the flirtatious personality that brought him so much popularity in the Games. He apologized seemingly deeply for his actions to Delphi and tried to act as if he enjoyed it when she ripped off the rest of his clothes.

 

Finnick stared at the ceiling as Dephi Aldjoy slept naked and soundly beside him. When he was sure she wouldn’t be woken easily, he got out of bed and slipped on a robe then grabbed all the contents of the fridge.

     He locked the bathroom door and furiously wrestled with the cap on the clear vodka until he got it open. It felt like water as he drank it but once it hit his stomach it began to burn. Finnick closed his eyes, keeping the bottle at his lips before drinking again. He hadn't known he was crying until the frustrated tears hanging from his jawline fell into his lap.

     Once the bottle was empty, Finnick unwrapped each snack and shoved them into his mouth like he'd seen children do with a leg of chicken in the poorer districts. He thought maybe if he could gain enough weight, if he could lose his chiseled body, then maybe no one would be eager enough to pay for sex. He stuffed himself until the seams of his stomach felt as if they were going to burst. Finnick's gut clenched and churned, causing him to double over the porcelain toilet and vomit. He clung to the toilet, exhausted, breathing heavily, and watched his tears make ripples as they fell into the toilet bowl. The mess of wrappers crunched as he hurled forward again with another wave of vomit. If this was what Snow wanted him to do then he would do it, with a smirk on his face even, but Finnick was going to make him pay.

 

He woke before Delphi in the morning, and after cleaning himself up in the bathroom, he carefully got back into bed with her. She woke lazily a few moments later, smiling at Finnick and running her extremely long fingernails through his hair.

     “What do I owe you?” She asked. “Snow never gave me an exact price.”

     Finnick looked at her seductively.

     “Darling, I have more money than I need,” he leaned over, placing his mouth next to her ear then purred, “but I do take payment in secrets.”


	2. Maybe It Won't Be So Bad

Annie bit at her fingernails nervously as the other seventeen year old girls were being herded into the roped off section of the town square. Some chatted eagerly about who might volunteer this year, others kept their heads down and remained silent. Annie glanced over at the family section and met the soft brown eyes that belonged to her sister. 

     Merope was two years older than Annie and already aged out of the Games. She was the quieter of the two sisters and had a rather large infatuation with one of the previous victors, but Merope wasn’t the only one who was madly obsessed with Finnick Odair. He was the Capitol darling and many of the Districts’ favorite as well. He even had his own group of fangirls that would gather at the pier every Wednesday afternoon to watch him hoist the sails on his boat and head out into the waters. Merope was part of this group and often dragged Annie along with her. 

     Annie smiled half-heartedly towards her sister then faced the stage where Valora Hayes, the Capitol escort for District Four, stepped out onto the raised platform in front of the two large glass bowls filled with slips of paper. Behind her stood Mags and Finnick. They were holding hands, but Finnick was staring intensely at something beyond the town square and Mags looked as if she was mumbling to herself. 

     Valora gave her speech about the honor associated with the Games and the video of District Thirteen played on the looming screens. In her seven inch heels, Valora stepped over to the bowl with the boys names and plucked a paper from the bunch.  Her shrill voice was steady as she spoke into the microphone. 

     “Caius Dugald.”

     Annie recognized his last name. He had an older brother who was in Annie’s grade school class awhile back.

     Before Caius could take the few steps to the stage, someone volunteered. The two boys were led to a roped off eight by eight square feet area near the stage. The rules of volunteering were simple: the person who was reaped either gives up their tribute status or fights the volunteer in hand to hand combat until one of them are knocked out. If the original person who was reaped wins, they remain the tribute. If they lose, the volunteer becomes the tribute. 

     Their fight was broadcasted on the big screen. Annie squirmed and before she could pay attention to the fight, it was over. Caius had won and was walking up onto the platform, wiping blood from his nose. He was a big guy for his age, he had grown up working down at the pier and he had muscles to show for it. 

     Valora congratulated him zealously. Finnick leaned over to whisper something into Mags’ ear. She responded by smiling and patting his chest as Valora reached into the bowl with the girls names. She tucked a stray dandelion yellow curl behind her ear then announced the tribute.

     “Sabille Combe.”

     Sabille was a petite girl with straight black hair that fell to her waist. When they displayed her face onto the screen, she seemed slightly anxious but nothing dramatic. In less fortunate Districts, the tributes’ faces after they’ve been reaped were contorted with true terror. Those tributes knew they were walking into imminent death. At least in District Four, any of the children reaped stood a least a little bit of a chance. Annie always hated watching the poorer Districts’ reaping ceremonies.

     The camera turned and the screen now showed a blown up version of Annie’s face and her outstretched arm in the air. Aware of what she had just done, Annie immediately put her arm down as if she could take it back. Her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to make sense of what happened but she couldn’t come to any rational conclusions as to why she volunteered. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. It was too late to change it now, the shame her family would receive if she withdrew would be too great for her to bear.

     Annie clenched her hands at her sides to conceal how badly they were shaking as she headed up to the platform. Sabille didn’t challenge Annie to the spot and, in turn, Annie was named tribute. As she stood next to Valora and Caius, she forced a smile for her family who was standing proudly in the crowd. 

     There was another speech by the victors but Annie wasn’t listening. It didn’t make sense. She didn’t want to be a tribute and she couldn’t remember the exact moment she raised her hand. Her heart rate spiked. She wouldn’t be coming out of the Games alive, she was certain of that. Annie closed her eyes briefly, taking deep breaths. Something good had to come out of it. She had always wanted to see what the other Districts looked like outside of a screen. Her family would be seen as celebrities in Four, even if she didn’t win, and Sabille would have at least another year with her family. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. 

     Annie said goodbye to her parents, who reiterated how proud they were of her, in a separate room after the reaping. Although she was smiling and nodding after what their parents said, Merope couldn’t hide the worry and pain in her eyes. Annie pretended not to notice it, but hugged her tighter than she normally would’ve.

     On the train, Caius introduced himself to Annie while they had a moment alone.

     “I know who you are,” she said. “I mean, I mean, uh, your brother was in my grade. I know your brother. Sorta.” She squeezed her eyes shut then shook her head. “Sorry, I’m Annie. Annie Cresta.”

    Caius chuckled. The whiteness of his teeth stood out against his dark skin. Annie was sure they were brighter than anyone’s in the Capitol. She held back the urge to ask him how he got them that way.

     “I’ve been studying previous Games and the reason the careers are so powerful isn’t just because they have a head start in training, but also because of their alliance,” He said as he paced back and forth. 

     Annie squirmed in her seat. The last thing she was thinking about were the careers. 

     “If we form an alliance, we’d have better odds against them.” Caius chewed on his lip. “They may even let us into their pack. Finnick was a career for a bit.”

     Annie nodded.

     He sighed and sat next to her. “You don’t seem as prepared as most tributes are. Especially ones who volunteer.”

     “I’m wishing I was back home, honestly.” Annie gave him half a smile. 

     “A part of me wishes the same thing.”

     For a moment, Annie forgot he could very well be the cause of her death. For a moment, it almost felt like she was talking to a friend and if a door hadn’t slid open to let Mags and Finnick walk in, she might’ve spilled everything to him.

     Finnick ran a hand through his hair, surveying the tributes. He was beyond exhausted with keeping up his Capitol image and didn’t bother trying to put it on for show for them. 

     Mags rushed over to Caius and Annie, crushing them in an awkward group hug that ended with Mags’ bushy gray hair in their faces. From over Mags’ shoulder, Annie could tell Finnick was irritated or disinterested, possibly a combination of the two. Whatever it was, the famous smirk of his was gone. 

 

The four of them and Valora ate together that night on the train. It was the most lavish food Annie had ever seen or tasted, it made her stomach ache just by looking at the trays and trays of food. She wondered how people like Valora could eat it everyday. It was silent at the table until Finnick cleared his throat then spoke.

     “Why did you volunteer?”

     Caius and Annie exchanged glances. She let him answer first.

     “Because it’s an honor for both me and my family,” Caius said in between bites of food. “And, to be mentored by the youngest victor ever would be amazing. 

     Annie wanted to repeat what he said for her answer. Maybe then she wouldn’t seem so helpless or insane, but she decided against it. Your mentors are what can save your life in the arena and she figured it was best not to start a relationship with them on lies.

     “I don’t know why I did it,” she mumbled, keeping her head down to avoid any judgemental looks.

     Finnick raised his eyebrows, as if intrigued, but changed the subject and started talking about the possible arenas for that year’s Games. Annie kept her gaze down, only lifting it to see if Finnick was still staring at her which he was. She tried to figure out why or what he was thinking, but his stare was so omnipresent she couldn’t figure it out. 

     One by one, people began to excuse themselves from the table until it was just Finnick and Annie. She was about to ask him why he was so intent on making her uncomfortable when he answered her question. 

     “District Four tributes are almost all volunteers now,” he said, “so every year I ask them why they did it and every year it’s the same answer. ‘It’s an honor’, ‘I wanted a challenge’, ‘It’d bring my family pride’. You’re the first one who admitted to not knowing why they did it.” Finnick met her sea green eyes but before she could respond, he pushed his chair back with a bit more force than necessary, and excused himself.

     The next morning, Annie grabbed two muffins off a cart in the dining car then went to find Finnick. Their small encounter the night before made her think they might be able to be friends. She found him standing near a window in one of the back cars, looking out as they passed District Two.

     “Hey!” She said cheerfully then handed him the muffin. He was slightly startled by her sudden appearance, but didn’t say anything. “So, I’ve been thinking and I’m going to make this whole trip a positive experience, even when I get in the arena. I’ve always wanted to see the Capitol, I’ve heard the people there are just as interesting as the city itself. The arena could be cool too. Dangerous, but cool.”

     She went on chattering about the importance of positivity and how it might carry her to the end of the Games, but each word she spoke irritated Finnick just a bit more. Could she really be so ignorant as to think she could avoid Snow’s grasp by keeping a smile on her face? When he couldn’t take it anymore, he snapped.

     “Annie!” Finnick yelled, smashing the muffin in his fist. He closed his eyes for a quick moment then said coldly, “The Games will destroy you. They destroy everyone, even people who aren’t reaped. Keeping an upbeat attitude does nothing except promote the Games. Being positive won’t save you, alliances won’t save you, not even winning will save you from Snow and the nightmares.” Her wide eyes watered but he continued. “Do you think I’m happy now? I’ve won the Games, I’ve got everything everyone could ever want. Everything, except privacy and sound sleep and I’d trade it all for those two things back. The only way to escape the side effects of the Games is to die.”

       She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. She did expect for the most part he would be happy living the life of a victor and she definitely didn’t realize that having an upbeat attitude would promote the Games further. Annie promptly pressed her lips together and ducked her head. She tried to utter an apology but Finnick had left the room so quickly she wasn’t sure if he had heard.


	3. Pre-Game Jitters

After Finnick snapped at her, Annie had managed to keep a lower profile for the rest of the train ride and during her time in the Capitol. While she didn’t boast about it as much, she still tried to see little upsides to being part of the Games because she was afraid of what would happen if she stopped. She repeatedly pushed away the thought of dying in the arena until the reality of it crept up on her during the last night before the Games. The very real possibility of her murder got in her face, demanded her attention, and ripped her apart.

     She paced back and forth in her bedroom, trying to calm herself down by mumbling incoherent nothings. Annie fiddled with her trembling hands as her breathing began to increase. Her heart slammed against her ribcage with such intensity that, for a moment, Annie thought she was having a heart attack and fell to her knees. Squeezing her eyes shut, Annie forced images of her family, her home, into her mind until she calmed down just enough to walk to the door and ask the Avox outside for a glass of water. The Avox nodded politely, ignoring her obvious signs of distress, and scurried off to get it for her. Annie returned to making her comforting circle around the rug in her room, muttering to herself again. 

     Anxiety had also kept Finnick awake. He despised the Games with all his being, but what he hated most was being a Mentor. It was chasing a bone on the end of a stick, a position given to him by Snow, as if Finnick and the other victors could actually save the tributes. Each year he watched them die, knowing that they probably blamed him in their final moments for not teaching them better or providing them with more parachutes. It was by far the worst burden he had to bear.

     Searching for a reminder of home, of that somewhat stability and peace, Finnick left his room. His grandmother always insisted on packing him a rather large sack of bread she had made before he went on trips to the Capitol. Word had gotten around a year or so prior and he had gotten teased mercilessly since then by some of the other victors.  He only allowed it because he knew it was the only thing that lightened the mood during the Games.

     He grabbed a small roll from the bag on the counter and a handful of sugar cubes then started heading back towards his room until he caught a glimpse of Annie furiously pacing in her room through her open door. He hadn’t talked to her since he yelled about her irritating positivity, but he tried to seem softer around her. He didn’t hate her and didn’t want her thinking that, he just didn’t know how to apologize and hoped he could get the idea across without actually having to say the words. 

     Finnick knocked on the wall of her room before entering. Her face turned beet red when she saw him then started mumbling and pacing even faster. 

     “A little pre-game jitters, huh?” Finnick chuckled lightly, trying to lift her spirits as if she were going to kick the ball around with a few friends in a backyard the next day, instead of fighting for her life. She stopped pacing and looked at him wide eyed. Her whole body was trembling. 

     “I can’t d-do this,” she stuttered. Her bright red hair was skewed like she had tossed and turned in bed beforehand. A chunk of her bangs was sticking upright. Finnick walked towards her cautiously.

     “It’s alright, everyone gets nervous the night before.”

     “I-I can’t do this,” she repeated. Desperate tears rimmed her eyes, the redness from the swelling juxtaposed the green in her irises. “I’m in o-over my head, I can’t do it. E-everyone else is so-so skilled and prepared, even the tributes from Eleven and Twelve!” Her arms flew into the air then fell back to her sides. “I-I don’t even know what I’m doing here-I get anxious at home-why did I think-”

     Annie’s chest rose and fell rapidly as her breathing picked up pace. Her eyes escaped his and searched frantically around the room. 

     “How did you ease your anxiety at home?” Finnick asked quickly.

     “M-my s-sister would tell m-me stories,” she gasped. A few tears slipped down her cheeks. “I w-want to go h-home.”

     “Breathe, Annie,” Finnick said slowly. “Come on, take a deep breath.” He locked eyes with her and took her shaking hands in his. “We’ll do it together, alright? Breathe in for five seconds then exhale for five seconds.” He didn’t wait for her to agree before he started counting. Once Annie’s breathing normalized, he sat her down on the edge of the bed and offered her half of the roll and a sugar cube. 

     “Eat these.”

     She dug her palms into her eyes like a child, rubbing the rest of her tears from them then  finally took the food.

     “It’s like the bread from home.” She whispered, holding it up to her nose. Finnick nodded then cleared his throat awkwardly.

     “Uh, there once was an old decrepit wizard-”

     “W-what are you doing?”

     “Telling you a story,” he answered simply. “There once was an old and-and decrepit wizard who lived long ago. He was a very powerful wizard, but he still had to fight to get to the top and instead of spells, he used potions. One by one he would invite the other powerful witches and wizards to feast with him. To throw off suspicion, the wizard would drink and eat all the same food. When the others died from the deadly potion, he would take their power then escape death by drinking the antidote that he always kept close to him, but even the antidote couldn’t save him from the potion’s side effects.” Finnick paused to nudge her into eating the bread. When Annie started to nibble on it he continued.

     “Nasty sores grew on the inside of his mouth and made him to smell like rotting meat, so he carried posies around in his pocket to keep away the smell.”

     Annie listened intently, clinging to his words so they were the only thing in her thoughts. Her stomach felt warm and almost tingly, a funny sensation she couldn’t quite understand.

     “That’s a true story by the way,” Finnick grinned. “I tweaked a few things, but the main story is true.”

     “Who’s the wizard?”

     Finnick debated sharing the secret for a moment before ultimately deciding to let her in on it. 

     “Our own Coriolanus Snow.” 

     Annie’s eyes boggled, but she quickly shook it off and giggled.

     “I’m serious!” Finnick chuckled. 

     “How do you know all that?”

     He pressed his lips together, trying to think of a way to phrase his answer. 

     “I have friends in the Capitol,” he said. “After they drink a few, they’ll spill everyone’s secrets.” She gave him a small sad smile.

     “I’m not planning on making it out of the bloodbath tomorrow,” she whispered. “So when you go home, can you tell Merope I’m sorry?”

     Finnick’s face fell. “What are you talking about?”

     “I can’t do it,” she said, both exhausted and defeated. “I can’t kill-I-I won’t-and there’s no point in waiting around to die.” She dropped her head then spoke very quietly, “I can avoid all of it by heading into the bloodbath at the cornucopia.”

     “You do that and all the pride you’ve brought your family goes down the drain.” Finnick said, his voice low and dangerous.  “Annie, I’ll do everything I can to get you home, but I can only do so much. You’re the one in the arena, not me.”

     The tears resurfaced, spilling over and dripping off her chin.

     “I can’t-I can’t do it.”

     “Yes you can, Annie.” Finnick fervently insisted. “District Four tributes can almost always side with the career tributes. Even though you scored lower than them, they may still let you ally with them because of your district.”

     “W-what about Caius?”

     “He can ally with them too. If you stay by their side for most of the Games you won’t have to kill because they’ll do it for you.” Finnick put his hand on her leg and squeezed once. “You’re smart, Annie. Don’t sell yourself short. If we work together you can come home a victor.”

     She looked up at him from under thin waterlogged eyelashes. “W-why are you doing this for me? I t-thought you didn’t like me.”

     Finnick looked down at his lap, a shy smile on his face.

     “You crept up on me, I guess.”

     Annie’s cheeks turned pink. She took a deep breath then held up her pinky finger.

     “I’ll try my hardest to fight in the arena, if you do everything you can outside of it.”

      Finnick took her pinky in his. “Promise.” 


	4. The Games

     There were five of them left. Annie and Caius had just managed to escape the remaining careers after it was clear their alliance was dying. The arena was set in an abandoned town with tiny hut like houses every quarter mile and a town square where the cornucopia was held. The climate was incredibly arid, there were multiple tributes who died from heat exhaustion or dehydration. Caius and Annie had managed to stay hydrated through their alliance since the careers had sole control over the only well in the entire arena, but now the lack of water was getting to them and the concrete dam on the right side of the town was mocking them.

     Finnick had kept his promise, sending a parachute with a brace when Annie had broken her wrist, cream to relieve their severe sunburns, and the most recent one, a rather impressive knife for the two of them when they escaped without any weapons from the careers. With each parachute, he sent a reminder of home, a subtle push of motivation to keep fighting. With only five of them left, Caius and Annie knew their alliance would have to end soon too, seeing as neither of them wanted to be the death of the other, but they vowed to stay together until there were only four left. 

     “Stay here,” Caius said quietly and nodded towards the corner of the empty one room hut. “Stay hidden too, just in case.” He grabbed the knife in a way that made Annie jump. She was having a hard time fighting off her anxiety in the arena, but through Finnick and Caius, she was getting by as well as she could. 

     “Caius-”

     “It’s okay,” he said but he couldn't keep the uncertainty from his voice. Going outside meant exposing yourself to the careers, a fact both Annie and Caius were well aware of. “I’m just going to check the snares. It’s been awhile since we’ve eaten.”

     Annie nodded then sunk into the corner next to the window as Caius looked both ways then jogged across the sandy gravel. They had set up their snares a few yards away near the next house in hopes of catching one of the tiny mouse like animals that sometimes skittered by. 

     A sharp yelp immediately caught Annie's attention and made her heart rate spike. Ice ran through her veins as she peeked through the corner of the window. She saw Caius limping away from the snares, a crossbow arrow lodged in his thigh. She made a move to run out to help him but he caught her gaze through the window and violently shook his head, a silent message to stay hidden. She let out a small whimper but remained where she was. She was having troubles controlling her breathing long enough to murmur prayers for him. 

     The remaining careers, Terra from One and Garric from Two, walked lazily towards Caius. He couldn’t outrun them and once he realized that, he braced himself against the wall of a hut and held out the knife.

     Terra let out a maniacal laugh as she and Garric neared Caius.

     “We should’ve killed you when we had the chance.” Garric spat.

     “Where’s the little redhead, huh?" Terra asked in her taunting sing song-y tone. "Is she around here too? Why don't you tell her to come out and play with us?”

     Annie shoved her fist in her mouth to keep from crying out. Her body started shaking and tears threatened to spill. 

     “Maybe we should have a little fun with this one. What do you think, Garric?”

     The greasy black haired boy nodded with a sick smile on his face.

     Caius lunged at their ankles, but they saw it coming and stepped out of the way. Terra kicked the knife from his hand with so much force she might've also broken his wrist. The two of them struggled but she came out on top, tying both Caius’s hands and feet with rope she must’ve gotten from the cornucopia. She handed the tail of the rope to Garric, who held it over his shoulder.

     “Beautiful day for a walk, don’t you think?”

     Terra and Garric walked along the gravel, dragging Caius face down behind them, as if they were strolling through a park. Annie covered her ears to block the sounds of Caius' anguish, but his screams still pierced through her defenses. Terra groaned loudly and slapped the rope away from Garric.

     “I can’t take anymore of the screaming,” she pulled the long sword out of its sheath on her waist. “Step on his back to keep him still.”

     Garric squashed Caius under his heavy military boots. Caius let out another cry and Annie bit down hard on her hand, trying to keep her whimpers silent. Her body was trembling so intensely she was worried the wall she was sitting against would crumble too. 

     From inside the Capitol, Finnick stood watching the wall screen with sponsors and a few gamemakers. He took in a deep breath, chewing on his fingernail as he watched Annie huddling in the corner of that house. The rest of the crowd cheered when Terra and Garric tied up Caius but Finnick was fighting off the urge to hurl. Finnick had tried to keep both of them alive for as long as he could, but there wasn’t anything he could do for Caius anymore. He was glued to the screen, trying to will Annie from afar to keep it together just a little bit longer, but with each step Terra and Garric took, he could see Annie falling apart. If she wasn’t careful, she’d be found.

     The taste of copper filled Annie’s mouth but she kept her hand there. She was worried that if she were to take it out she’d let out a scream that rivaled Caius'.

     Terra lifted the sword over her head and brought it down in one swift movement. A cannon fired. Snot, tears, and blood smeared across Annie’s face. Caius’ severed head rolled away from Terra’s feet. Annie desperately tried to fold herself further into the corner, imagining that the walls surrounding her sides would turn into arms, holding her close and melding her pieces back together.

     “You think the redhead’s around here somewhere?” Garric asked, digging the toe of his shoe into the gravel road. 

     Terra shrugged as she tucked the sword back into the sheath. 

     “We can look for her tomorrow. The sun’s going down and the well is back by the cornucopia.”

     Garric sighed and pressed his flaking lips together but followed her back towards the town square. Annie closed her eyes and listened for their footsteps to fade away. When they did, she ran as fast as she could in the opposite direction of the town square, sobbing as she did.

     When she got to the last house in the arena, she leaned against the door and fell apart. Caius’s screams had buried themselves into her head, replaying in an agonizing loop. She brought her knees up to her chest and began humming to herself, trying to drown out the shrieks.

     Finnick couldn’t watch anymore. He had to do something, he promised her he would. He straightened his suit jacket and put on his charm to talk to the sponsors. All he needed was just enough money to send a small parachute. 

     When it landed at her feet, Annie didn’t notice it. The wind had to bump it into her legs before she realized it was there. With shaking hands and swollen eyes, she opened the parachute. Inside sat a handful of sugar cubes and a letter.

_      Eat one, read the story, then repeat. Just fight a little longer, you’ll be home soon. _

_                                                     XX -Finnick _

     The story was of The Fisherman and His Wife, a well known story from District Four. She set the paper beneath her foot because her hands were shaking too violently for her to keep it still enough to read. Annie clasped her hands over her ears again and muttered the story to herself over and over again until she fell asleep.

     Annie woke the next morning to a wave of water crashing into her. She frantically scooped water from the foot of it that had already accumulated and desperately brought it to her lips. She relished in the first drink she'd had in days but her relief quickly turned into a panic once she realized the water had washed away the letter with the story from Finnick. A panic attack began to bubble up as she searched and wading through the rapidly rising water for the letter.

     Soon the water level had surpassed the houses and instead of being worried about the letter, Annie was now worrying about keeping her head above the water. She had been treading water for a while now and her muscles ached. A cannon fired but she kept swimming. She had always been a good swimmer, all children were taught to swim and swim well in Four, but she wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep going.

     Finnick let out a sigh of relief upon realizing that the flood could very well wipe out the rest of the tributes as long as Annie kept her head above the water. He watched intently, silently rooting for Annie to stay strong. On the other screens, the other tributes were beginning to slip under the water. Groans of disappointment came from the crowd as another cannon fired, but each cannon was music to Finnick’s ears. 

     Annie’s limbs throbbed with an intensity they never had before. It felt as if flames were licking her muscles, threatening to engulf her body whole. She gave up on treading water and instead opted to float on her back. Just as she was going to give into the exhaustion and let the water pull her to the bottom of the arena, a voice boomed overhead.

     “Ladies and Gentlemen, the winner of the seventieth annual Hunger Games, Annie Cresta of District Four.”


	5. You Can't Break A Promise

Annie was excused from her victory tour due to ‘extenuating circumstances’. The Capitol had messed with her head during the Games and opted to hide her and her illness away instead of dealing with the consequences. To make it up to the public, they paraded Finnick around again. The mentor of the winning tribute is almost as good as the winning tribute herself, especially when said mentor looks like Finnick does. 

     During his tour, he tried to stay in contact with Annie by sending her letters but he never got one in return. He knew it was because he was just another reminder of the Games now and with her being so fragile, she couldn’t handle it. He also knew it was selfish to keep sending them and expecting a response, but it took him a while to stop writing them. When he finally did, he wrote to Mags instead, asking her to bring Annie a loaf of bread every once in awhile. Mags happily obliged, she had grown fond of Annie too. 

     When he was finally released from the tour, the first thing Finnick did was kiss his grandmother’s cheek and retire to his bed. He stayed up staring at his ceiling, trying to push away the thoughts that told him he could’ve done more for Annie in the arena, something that would’ve kept her more sane or relaxed. The tour had kept him busy enough that these thoughts didn’t linger, but now that he was alone and sleep wouldn’t take him they pounded at his head.

     Finnick was still wide awake when doorbell rang a few hours past midnight, followed by desperate knocking. He threw on a t-shirt and some sweatpants then went down to answer the door, expecting a hurried aid from the Capitol here to tell him they forgot a photo shoot, but it wasn’t an aide at all. It was Annie’s older sister.

     She was wide eyed with concern and her mousy brown hair was falling out of its bun as she clutched one of her hands to her chest. 

     “Please come help me,” Merope panted. “Annie’s having another breakdown and I haven’t been able to calm her since she’s gotten home. All I’ve been able to do is wrestle the morphling from her and-and read her stories from the other side of the door but it hasn’t worked.” Merope held up her hand so Finnick could see the blood welling from teeth marks. “She even bit me tonight! You-you sent her a parachute the last night of the Games that calmed her down. I know you just got back, but I thought maybe you could help.”

     Finnick let out a deep breath. 

     “I’ll just make it worse,” he said. “I’ll just bring back memories of the Games.”

     “Please,” Merope pleaded. “If it doesn’t work I won’t bother you ever again, but can you please try just once?”

     It was a long shot, he was aware, but the thoughts still whispered in the back of his mind that he could’ve done more and this was his chance to do just that. 

     “Okay,” he said finally. “I’ll try.”

     Annie was sitting on the tile floor in the shower, hugging her knees and humming an odd song to herself as she rocked back and forth. Finnick took a few cautious steps towards the shower as Merope stood in the doorway nervously pulling at her hair.

     “Annie?” He murmured, opening the shower door and sitting on his knees outside of it so he was at her level. “Annie, it’s me, it’s Finnick. You’re okay, you’re safe now.”

     She didn’t move. Her gaze was terrified and fixed on the wall as she mumbled,

     “My name is Annie Cresta. True. I won the Hunger Games. True.”

     Finnick looked back at Merope.

     “What is she doing?”

     “I told her to say the things she knows are true,” she explained. “I thought it would help her come back to reality.”

     “Caius is dead. True. I killed him. True. No-no- false. No-true,” Annie shook her head then covered her ears and shrieked so loudly Finnick’s ears rang. He stepped into the shower and sat behind her, wrapping his arms around her now tiny body. Her bones stuck out against her skin so dramatically that her spine poked Finnick’s chest. The water pounded down on the both of them, soaking his clothes.

     “I can’t-I can’t t-tell,” she murmured, “I can’t tell what’s real, I can’t get it to stop....” She crushed her hands harder against her head. Finnick was worried she’d crack her skull.

     “Ask me,” he said, taking her hands from her ears and wrapping them around her knees. “I’ll help you.”

     “I’m in District Four,” she whispered.

     “True.”

     Annie shook her head again. 

     “This isn’t my home, my home doesn’t look like this. My h-”

     “This is your new home,” he said, water dripping off his nose and chin. “You live in the Victor’s Village now. I live across the street. You’re safe, it’s okay.”

     She squeezed her eyes shut. Her body quivered beneath his hands despite the hot temperature of the water.

     “All I can hear is Caius, all I can see is Caius, over and over and over-”

     “Hey, focus on my voice, okay?” Finnick rubbed her arms lightly. “Just focus on my voice, Annie. You’re home in District Four. You’re safe, you’re home.” He drew a trident on her skin with his finger. “Focus on what I’m drawing. Can you picture the trident?” He made a fish out of a circle and a triangle. “This one is a fish. It’s a badly drawn fish, but it’s a fish like the ones down at the pier.”

     Slowly, with each drawing, she began to calm down. Her breathing slowed and her shuddering eased. Merope handed Finnick a towel to wrap her up before he carried her back out to her bedroom. He sat her on the bed and kissed the amber bangs plastered to her forehead.

     “I need you to fight through this, Annie,” he said softly. “We made a promise the night before the Games that you’d fight and I’d help you. That promise didn’t end when the Games did.”

     Annie stared blankly at him, but he knew she was somewhere in there listening to him. 

     “I’m still here, okay? I’m still going to help you, but I need you to do your own bit of it as well.” He squeezed her shoulder gently then stepped back.

     “Thank you,” Merope whispered gratefully. 

     Finnick turned to leave then paused to ask her the question he’d harbored for months.

     “Did Annie get my letters?”

     Merope nodded. “I read them to her on her bad days. They seemed to work as long as she wasn’t past a certain point. She wasn’t in a clear state of mind to write you back and I didn’t want to tell you that she hadn’t been getting better, so that’s why we never sent one.” She ducked her head, a mannerism, Finnick recognized, that belonged to Annie too. “I’m sorry.”

     He shook it off. “Don’t worry about it.” He gave her a smile. “Do you think she’d mind if I visited her once in awhile?”

     “No, I don’t think she’d mind at all.”


End file.
